Olivia Dean, 26-year-old British singer and songwriter, just won Best New Artist at the 68th Annual Grammy Awards. It is hard to pinpoint what exactly skyrocketed her into the stardom she is quickly growing into; is it her style of lightness that is so reminiscent of a breath of fresh air, her sweet personality or her songs dipping into the neo-soul influence of the ‘60s that set her apart from the techno-dominated chart toppers?
In complete transparency, I had discounted Dean’s music as that of another internet fad. I had only seen her music posted to scenic photos of expensive drinks and to girls posting their boyfriends — bits and clips being used to formulate the ‘perfect clean girl aesthetic.’ In a world where every trend is recycled from something else, I pushed back against the Y2K prowess of Addison Rae and the shining disco of Sombr. This view is incredibly cynical, however — Dean’s charming presentation, opening concerts for Sabrina Carpenter (if you know me, you know Sabrina Carpenter) and her Grammy win convinced me to give her album a listen.
I am very happy to report that I, indeed, am a cynic, and Dean’s album “The Art of Loving” holds a beautiful message that couldn’t come at a better time.
The album itself holds 12 songs and spans 34 minutes. Thematically, the album focuses on love and the imperfections of it. Love is not merely a feeling to Dean, it’s a deliberate action that requires patience, gratitude, hope and generosity. And it’s not only romantic love — the album highlights platonic love, self-love, familial love and acceptance. Olivia Dean stated that she wrote “The Art of Loving” during a breakup, one of the most emotionally charged and tumultuous times that a person can go through. For those curious, my personal top three are “Nice To Each Other,” “Baby Steps” and “I’ve Seen It.” I found their messages to resonate with me the most and their sounds to be my favorite from her.
It opens with track one, “The Art of Loving” — the album’s title and introduction. It’s a sweet, melodic track laced with gentle piano. Dean sings that love is always worth it – “it wasn’t all for nothing / you taught me something / something and lost and something gained.” She asserts that all love is worthwhile, even if it doesn’t last. Our experiences will ultimately teach us lessons and show us how to give grace to one another.
Track two (and my personal favorite) is titled “Nice to Each Other.” “Nice to Each Other” is about the ‘discovery’ phase of a relationship, and loving someone when you’re ready for it. Love can be simplified into, simply, two people being nice to each other. The initial stages of attraction, learning when it’s right for you and keeping it light and playful — “cause you know / I’ve done all the classic stuff,” — while carefully defining that balance of emotional vulnerability with someone — “I don’t know where the switches are / or where you keep the cutlery.” She emphasizes the importance of maintaining your own independence, especially within the in-between relationships that aren’t quite friendships, but aren’t quite exclusive yet (“…cause I don’t want a boyfriend!”). When I listen to this song, I envision a breezy early morning and a cup of someone’s favorite drink, thinking about a date they have later that night and the anticipation of getting to know someone and just how much fun the feeling is. It’s hard to explain fully, but it’s an addicting mixture of nerves, curiosity and excitement. Beyond my playfully artistic interpretation, Dean’s message is that you learn what you truly love just from experience, connecting with all sorts of different people until you find what’s meant for you. I find it to be a beautifully fun track and a strong lead single to introduce the album. It is also my top song on Apple Music at the moment — and this is from someone who listens to a lot of music.
In a press release for the third song on the album, “Lady Lady,” Dean states the song embodies “…the feeling of having to change just as you’re getting used to a version of yourself… the power we hold as women — I think it feels like peace.” The transitions of growing up and the trials of womanhood are emblematic of the universal female experience. Dean reflects on things that once defined her (“God I used to love this hair / now there’s something in the air.”). This emphasizes how some of life’s greatest changes are not so dramatic; sometimes change can look like gradually growing out of your clothes and realizing you’ve changed your style completely or trying a new hairstyle and discovering it suits you far better than your old one did. Dean believes that the universe and Mother Nature have a plan, and it is so comforting to think that there is a Lady Lady looking out for us all — even if we don’t see her right away.
“Close Up” is the fourth song on the album — it begs the frustrating question, how can a person become so close to someone and then suddenly tear it all away? The confusing push-and-pull of the modern situationship, the disorientation of vulnerability and its fleeting nature — it’s a feeling that many know all too well. The closer you get, the further away they grow. It’s an addicting, emotionally draining state to be in. Once you’ve navigated that pain, though, you recognize the feelings and patterns, learning how to protect yourself, leaning directly into one of the core underlying themes of the album: growth.
Most, if not all, readers of this article have heard the next track: “So Easy (To Fall in Love).” This sweet, warm song feels like a hug from a best friend on a sunny summertime afternoon, where everything feels stickily happy and life feels complete and whole. This track highlights Dean’s optimism towards her love life — falling in love with her is easy. She sings the traits that would make her an ideal partner, which is a belief I think everyone should hold to some extent. We are all worthy of love; we all have unique traits that we can bring to a partnership to make it better. Loving yourself, through and through, and having confidence in your value is one of the things that will make a relationship whole. It is a void that no significant other, no matter how beloved, could ever fill. To me, relationships are about building upon one another, complementing and enriching each other’s lives. Dean knows this – “the way I do my hair / the way I make you laugh / the way we like to share, a walk in Central Park.” Overall, I understand why this song has skyrocketed to fame in the way that it has, and I admire the joyous notion about love she’s created.
“Let Alone The One You Love” takes on a different sound — a slower, RNB inspired track about letting go of something you want nothing more than to hold on to. “You’re the hug that had to end / though i’ve tried to hold on / and if you knew me at all / you wouldn’t try to keep me small,” Sometimes, the fantasy and romance of a partner just isn’t quite where it needs to be or how you had envisioned it. As a girl with a relatively large personality and a lot of emotions, these lyrics — “You react like I’m crossing a line / I’m too much to handle / just dial it back a bit,” — hit home. There is no worse feeling than the one you love telling you that you’re just too much, too loud, too talkative, too whatever the case may be. Dean realizes this is not what she wants, ending the relationship and reclaiming her light, which the person had dulled. It is a sad song, but I would argue its meaning to be bittersweet; by letting go, space is cleared for positive change and newfound joy.
“Man I Need” is similar to “So Easy (To Fall in Love)” – everyone’s heard it by now. It encompasses that same warm vibe, but this time, the topic is the opposite. Instead of focusing on herself and her qualities, she’s asking what qualities the men in her life can offer her. She’s effectively refusing the mediocrity that a good number of men in modern dating bring. If you ask any single college-aged woman — or honestly any woman — there’s recently been a dip in the quality of partnership men offer. It seems men never intentionally approach potential partners anymore, which makes it difficult for bonds to form when traditionally women would be on the receiving end, not the initiating end. I think Dean addresses this by playfully suggesting the man she’s meeting needs to step up and be the man she needs, and not just any plain man. “I’d like to think you feel the same way / but I can’t tell with you sometimes / so, baby, let’s get on the same page / stop making me read between the lines,” I personally like this line a lot. She expertly balances a lighthearted delivery with a serious, relatable feeling amongst women, proving that there is a way to assert oneself gracefully while not sacrificing the rigidity the statement requires. Her performance of this song at the Grammys was ultimately what got me to give Dean the time of day; she just looked like she was having so much fun on stage, and her vocals captivated me with their fullness.
“Something Inbetween” is a track toned differently than the rest of the album — it explores the balance of space and intimacy, calling upon the all-or-nothing stereotype of relationships. Sonically, it is admittedly not my favorite; however, the message stuck out to me. I interpreted it to be somewhat of a Nice to Each Other sister song — the same idea, opposite emotions. My interpretation is likely not 100% accurate, but if it holds true, I find this song to be a pleasant touch to the album. Kind of similar to the parallel between “Man I Need” and “So Easy (To Fall in Love),” it feels like a nice callback to wanting to remain your own person while giving yourself to an intimate relationship.
Tinged with melancholic piano and lined with bewitching vocals, “Loud” is about the aftermath of heartbreak. “Silence is so loud / and everything’s unspoken now,” the need for clarification after Dean had her heart broken was no longer necessary — the man in question said everything he needed to without speaking a word. “‘Cos we went straight to lovers / so we can’t even talk as friends,” opens a wound where once a romantic connection with someone is severed, no connection no longer exists; there is no way to move on, resulting in silence being the only option. The silence he left was so deafening that unexplored emotions became loud in areas they had never been.
“Baby Steps” is another personal favorite of mine. My roommate played it for me after returning to UF post-winter break, and it immediately had me hooked. It’s such a mellow, hopeful song, taking your first baby steps after your life is completely shaken up. There is an intentional logic behind placing this song after the moody “Loud.” By following the actual timeline of romance, breakups and love, Dean has created a chronological narrative that I find adds significantly to the album’s listening experience. The lyrics “I’m used to being near you / when I’m down at ten percent / and you’d plug me straight back in,” stand out, highlighting the emptiness that follows a breakup — the person you’d once leaned on in times of exhaustion and defaulted all your thoughts and confessions to, is no longer there. One of the most harrowing post-breakup experiences is opening your phone to call said person and realizing they’re no longer in your life — and “Baby Steps” is about healing from that and finding redirection. Whether it’s going out alone on Friday nights or buying yourself flowers, any (baby!) step towards self-love is progress worth celebrating. “I won’t fall back / if I fall forwards,” is a gentle reminder to any listener that even when we make mistakes, these events can be used as an opportunity to lead us to the better person we are meant to become.
“A Couple Minutes” is the second-to-last track on the album, her reflection upon a past lover after seeing them in public. Their habits have changed, they’ve moved on and Dean is left with a sense of nostalgia and compassion for this person — wishing them the best even after so much time has passed. “Of course I still care / love’s never wasted when it’s shared / and although it’s over, I’ll always be there.” Even when you know compatibility is impossible, and that life is better apart in the long run, there is still love that remains in a person’s heart after becoming so interwoven with someone else. It’s a disassociating feeling of distance — you knew a version of this person that no longer exists in the context in which you loved them. It’s an extremely difficult feeling to grapple with; you know they’ve changed and moved on. Still, in a way, it feels like a tender, soft ending to the relationship as a whole; she gained the closure she never received by moving on.
The final song was recommended to me by one of my closest friends: “I’ve Seen It.” Dean knows love exists because she’s seen it everywhere — the “it” in question being love. Not just romantic love, but platonic, sharing memories and laughs with her friends, knowing she can fall back on them when she needs to. My friends know how sentimental I can be — especially when it comes to them — so upon first listen after receiving this song pre-hangout, I was bawling on the way to go see them. The lyrics that broke me, since they were handpicked to make me cry (thank you, Jacklyn), are as follows: “I’ve seen it dance with friends around the table / In Eleanor, Rosie and Louise / And it makes me cry to think that I am able to give it back the way it gives to me.” Dean sees love wherever she looks, from simple moments on a train to lyrics in songs to answering phone calls. I personally love this outlook on life, that there is love in every crevice, whether it be romantically, platonically or familially. It can be found in nature, in hobbies and passions, in books, movies — anywhere. She’s seen it. The album ends on an incredibly sweet note, tying all its sentiments together — “I know it’s somewhere in my chest / I guess it’s been inside me all along.” No matter what challenges or disappointments or heartaches life throws at us, there is love in each and every one of us — and there always has been.
UF PRISM 